Person of Interest Read online

  Just then she turned around, spotted him and jumped. Her hand flew to her chest. “You scared me!”

  He took the final step down as she caught her breath. “Sorry.” And he was, but not about startling her. He was sorry she’d caught him watching her like that. The last thing he needed was her putting together his loopy comments in the ambulance and his gawking this morning and coming up with the idea that he liked her in ways he shouldn’t.

  “I was just making a fresh pot of coffee.” She gestured with the carafe. “There’s eggs, bacon and toast. It was delivered about fifteen minutes ago.”

  While he was in the shower. Apparently Director Calder didn’t want the good doctor to have to concern herself with preparing meals. Joe’s reputation for lousy cuisine had apparently preceded him.

  “Great.” He crossed the room. The closer he got the more her hand shook as she poured the water into the coffeemaker. The idea that he made her nervous intrigued him just a little, though it shouldn’t. He imagined she was still annoyed about his manhandling three months ago.

  “I hope you like it strong,” she commented without looking at him as she shoved the empty carafe under the drip basket. “At the hospital we prefer it with enough kick to keep us going.”

  He stopped three feet away, leaned against the counter. “That’s the only way I drink it.”

  She glanced up at him and pushed a smile into place with visible effort. “How do you feel this morning?” Her gaze examined the bandages.

  “Like hell,” he admitted. “You didn’t take a baseball bat to my head while I slept last night, did you?”

  Worry lined her smooth complexion. “The pain meds should alleviate most of the discomfort.”

  Lured by the scent of the brewing coffee, he reached for a mug. She stiffened as his arm brushed her shoulder. “I guess if I took two like you ordered, they might,” he confessed.

  She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath of frustration. “Men. You’re all the same. You think taking pain medication makes you look like a wimp. That is so silly. The more pain you tolerate the more adrenaline your body will produce to help you cope. The more adrenaline pumping the less effective the medication you actually do take.”

  “Sounds like a vicious cycle, Doc.” He set the mug on the counter. His gut rumbled. “Speaking of vicious.” He glanced at the foam containers. “I’m starved.” He’d had juice and water yesterday. A little soup last night but definitely not enough for a guy accustomed to packing away the groceries.

  “You see,” she snapped. “That’s my point exactly.”

  He turned back to her. She’d folded her arms over her chest and now glared at him through those too clunky glasses. Somehow he’d pissed her off.

  “What?” he asked in the humblest tone he possessed.

  “You just ignored what I said.” She gestured to his bandaged face. “You’ve been through extensive surgery and would still be in the hospital if you were one of my real patients. Yet you ignore my orders regarding meds. There are reasons the medication is prescribed, Agent Hennessey. What don’t you understand about the process?”

  Okay, calm down, Elizabeth ordered the side of her that wanted to obsess on the subject. She’d let him get to her already and he’d scarcely entered the room. She took a deep breath, tried to slow her racing heart. How did he do this to her just walking into the room?

  “Look, Doc.” He leaned against the counter next to her again. “I’m not trying to be cranky. I took the antibiotics. I even took the pain killer, but only one, not two. That dosage dulls my senses. And I need my senses sharp.”

  Though, arguably, she could see the logic in what he said, he needed to see hers as well. They were going to be here together for three long weeks. Taking a couple of days to get past the worst of the pain from surgery wasn’t too much to ask in her opinion.

  “Agent Hennessey,” she began with as much patience as she could summon, “it wouldn’t kill you to take an additional forty-eight hours of complete downtime.”

  He reached around her for the coffee, taking her breath for a second time with his nearness. She hated that he possessed that kind of power over her. Men like him should come with a warning. Don’t get too close. She knew the hazards, had learned them firsthand with David. And David had been a kitty cat compared to this guy. Hennessey’s unmarred record for getting the job done wasn’t the only thing for which he had a reputation.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee then started to put the carafe away. Elizabeth quickly scooted out of his path to avoid another close encounter.

  “Trust me, Doc,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. The groan of satisfaction was another of those things she could have done without. “I’ll be the first to admit it if I can’t handle the pain without the second pill every four hours. Deal?”

  The last time she’d agreed to a deal with him it had landed her here. But then, like him, she had a job to do. People to protect. And maybe that made her an adrenaline junkie, too, although she didn’t think so. Sure, her work for the CIA was covert to a degree, but she only saw it as doing her part. It wasn’t much but it was something.

  Did men like Joe Hennessey look at “their part” the same way? She just didn’t know. Figuring out what made him tick wasn’t on her agenda. She’d thought she had David all figured out and she’d been wrong and they’d shared thoughts as well as bodily fluids for more than a year. What could she possibly expect to learn about this man in a mere three weeks?

  Nothing useful.

  Nothing that would add to the quality of her life or give closure to her past.

  Considering those two cold hard facts, her best course of action was to steer clear of emotional entanglement in this situation.

  “All right, Agent Hennessey,” she agreed reluctantly. “You’re correct. You are a grown man. The level of pain you can and are willing to tolerate is your call. Just make sure you take the antibiotics as directed.” She looked him square in the eyes. “That part is my call.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The wink immediately obliterated any hope of sincerity in his answer.

  She had to get her mind off him. Her gaze landed on the breakfast another agent had delivered. Food was as good a distraction as any. Hennessey had said he was hungry.

  Each container was laden with oodles of cholesterol and enough calories to fuel an entire soccer team through at least one game. Hennessey didn’t hesitate. He dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in a month. But his enthusiasm waned when the chewing action elicited a new onslaught of pain.

  “Sure you don’t want that full dosage?” she asked casually. It wasn’t that she enjoyed knowing he was in more pain than he wanted to admit, but being right did carry its own kind of glee.

  “I’m fine.”

  She didn’t particularly like the idea that her unnecessary remark only made him more determined to continue without the aid of additional medication. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything at all.

  While she picked at the eggs, sausage and biscuits on her plate, he ate steadily, however slowly. Oatmeal or yogurt would have been a much better choice. She wondered if he’d been the one to order the food. There hadn’t been any calls in or out. Or perhaps the agent just picked up for them whatever he’d picked up for himself.

  Checking on the menu for the next few days might be a good idea.

  Elizabeth dropped her fork to her plate. Why had she done this? Why wasn’t she on that cruise? She could have said no. That wasn’t true.

  People will die.

  Saying no actually hadn’t been an option.

  “Agent Hennessey.”

  He met her gaze. “Yeah?”

  As much as he tried to hide it she didn’t miss the dull look that accompanied the endurance of significant pain.

  She sighed and set her food aside. “Look, let’s not play this game. You’re obviously in pain. I would really feel a lot better if you took your medication.”

  “I told you I’m fine.”

&n
bsp; The words had no more left his lips than he bolted from the table and headed for the short corridor beyond the kitchen that led to the laundry room and downstairs bathroom.

  Instinctively, Elizabeth followed. His violent heaves told on him before she caught sight of him kneeling at the toilet.

  He’d been pushing the limits ever since he regained his equilibrium after anesthesia. This was bound to happen.

  Ignoring the unpleasant sounds she moved to the wash basin next to him and moistened a washcloth. When he’d flushed the toilet and managed to get to his feet, she passed the damp cloth to him.

  “I think you should be in bed.”

  “You know what, Doc? I think you’re right.”

  Unbelievable. What was most incredible was that he didn’t try to turn her words into something lewd or suggestive.

  She followed him up the stairs and into the room he’d used the night before. He climbed between the sheets without putting up a fuss. To her surprise he even took the other pain pill she offered without argument.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, his eyes closed.

  When Elizabeth would have moved away from the bed his fingers curled around her wrist and held on. “What’s the rush, Doc?” He tugged her down onto the side of the bed next to him.

  She tried to relax but couldn’t. “You should rest.”

  “I’m lying flat on my back. I’ve taken the pills. At least give me this.”

  If he hadn’t looked at her so pleadingly, she might have been able to refuse. But there was that glimmer of vulnerability again and she just couldn’t do it.

  “What is it that you want, Agent Hennessey?”

  “First.” He moistened those full lips. Strange, she considered, his lips were awfully full for a man’s. There hadn’t been a lot she could do about that. The best they could hope for was that no one would notice. “I’d like you to stop calling me Agent Hennessey. Call me Joe.”

  His fingers still hung around her wrist, more loosely now, but the contact was there. Pulling away would have been a simple matter but he was her patient and she needed him to relax. So she didn’t pull away.

  “All right, Joe,” she complied. “I suppose then that you should call me Elizabeth.” Most anything was preferable to Doc. Although she did have to admit that he somehow made it sound sexy.

  He licked his lips and said her name, “Elizabeth. It suits you.”

  She wasn’t sure whether that was a compliment or not, but she decided not to ask.

  “Talk to me,” he urged, the fingers around her wrist somehow slipping down to entwine with hers. “Tell me about your relationship with Maddox. What attracted you to him?”

  They were supposed to do this. That’s why she was here, beyond the surgery that is. She was supposed to make sure he knew about David’s personal life—at least as much as she knew. He needed to get the voice down pat and the mannerisms. Practice would accomplish both. But the details were another matter. She had to give him the details just in case David discussed his private life with someone Hennessey—Joe, she amended—might come in contact with during the course of this undercover operation.

  Elizabeth saw no point in putting off the inevitable. Getting on with it was the best way.

  “He was nice,” she said. And it was true. She hadn’t known what to expect out of a CIA handler and his being nice was the first thing she was drawn to. All extraneous assets utilized by the CIA were assigned handlers as a go-between. She didn’t say because he certainly knew this already.

  “Ouch. Maybe you don’t know this, honey, but nice is not a man’s favorite adjective.”

  “Elizabeth,” she corrected, feeling even more awkward with his use of the endearment though she felt confident he didn’t mean it as an actual endearment.

  “Elizabeth,” he acknowledged.

  Even then, as he acquiesced to her assertion he made one of his own. He drew tiny circles on her palm with the pad of his thumb.

  She started to pull her hand away, but decided that would only allow him to see that he’d gotten to her. Pretending his little digs at her composure didn’t bother her would carry far more weight. When he saw that he couldn’t get to her in that way he would surely let it go.

  “I liked his jokes,” she went on in hopes of losing herself in the past. She worked hard not to do that on a regular basis; doing so now was a stab at keeping her mind off how being this close to Joe Hennessey unnerved her. It shouldn’t, but it did.

  “Yeah, he was a jokester,” Joe murmured.

  His voice had thickened a little from the action of the painkiller. If she were lucky he’d fall asleep soon. His body needed the rest. Whether he realized it or not his whole system was working hard to heal his new wounds which diverted strength and energy from other aspects of his existence. He didn’t need to fight the process.

  Something he’d said in the ambulance, about lying, pinged her memory. She’d have to ask him about that later when he was further along in his recovery.

  “So he was nice,” Joe reiterated, “and he could tell a joke. Is that why you fell for him?”

  His lids had drifted shut now. He wouldn’t last much longer. Elizabeth was glad. She stared at their joined hands. Hers smooth and pale, his rougher, far darker as if he spent most of his time on a beach somewhere.

  As she watched, his fingers slackened, lay loose between hers. His respiration was deep and slow. She doubted he would hear her answer even if she bothered to give one. But he’d asked, why not respond?

  “No, Agent Hennessey, those are not the reasons I fell for him.” She paused and when he didn’t correct her she knew he was down for the count. “I fell for him because he was like you,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. “He made me feel things that terrified me and, at the same time, made me feel alive.” As hard as she’d tried not to look back and see herself as stupid, she couldn’t help it. She’d been so damned foolish.

  “And look where it got me,” she muttered, annoyed with herself for dredging up the memories.

  With every intention of leaving the room she started to pull her hand from the big, warm cradle of his and his fingers abruptly closed firmly around hers.

  “Don’t stop now, Elizabeth,” he murmured without opening his eyes. “You’re just getting to the good part.”

  The only thing that kept her from slapping him was the fact that she would likely undo some of her handiwork and have to do it all over again.

  Instead, she held her fury in check and went on as if he’d misinterpreted what she’d said. Tomorrow, or even after that, if he questioned her about her comment she would lie through her teeth and swear she hadn’t said any such thing. Two could play this game, she decided.

  Stating the facts as if they described someone else’s life she told Joe Hennessey the story of how Agent David Maddox had come into her life as her handler and proceeded to lure her into temptation with his vast charm.

  Hennessey would no doubt recognize the story. He probably practiced the same M.O. all the time. According to what David had told her, Hennessey left a heartbroken woman behind at every assignment. He was the proverbial James Bond. The man who had it all. A new secret life, with all it entailed, every week.

  How exciting it must be to live that kind of life with absolutely no accountability to anyone. The broken hearts he left behind would certainly be chalked up to collateral damage just as the occasional dead body surely was.

  Elizabeth worked hard at keeping her tone even and her temper out of the mix, but it wasn’t easy. The more she talked about the past and considered her relationship with David, the more she realized how she hadn’t ever really known him. She only knew what had drawn her to him.

  She didn’t really know David the man. She only knew David the lover.

  She knew what he’d allowed her to see.

  That realization was the hardest of all.

  Her gaze dropped to Joe Hennessey. This time he was definitely sleeping. She couldn’t help wondering if he’d d
one this on purpose. Made her see.

  She tugged her hand free of his and admitted yet another painful truth. No. This was no one’s fault but her own. She’d seen what she’d wanted to see.

  Nothing more.

  And now she knew the whole truth.

  Her relationship with David had been based on an illusion that she had created in her mind.

  Elizabeth left Hennessey’s room.

  She progressed down the stairs and walked to the front door. She unlocked and opened it and came face-to-face with the agent assigned to that location.

  “I need to see Director Calder,” she said, her voice lacking any real emotion.

  “Is there a problem, Dr. Cameron?” the agent asked, his dark eyewear no doubt concealing an instant concern for the two principals it was his job to protect.

  “Yes, there is,” she said bluntly. “I need to go home. I’ve decided I can’t complete this assignment. Please call the director for me.”

  Elizabeth closed the door. There was nothing else to say.

  She’d made up her mind.

  Agreeing to this part of his mission had been a mistake. Giving someone David’s face was one thing but she could not do the rest. There had to be someone else who knew David’s personality well enough to help Hennessey grasp the necessary elements. Surely there were videos the CIA had made, tapes of interviews David had conducted.

  However they conducted this portion of the mission from here had nothing to do with her.

  She wanted out.

  Chapter Six

  Three days elapsed before Elizabeth would again speak to him about her relationship with Maddox.

  Today was his first “official” Maddox lesson. They were finally getting down to business. ’Bout time.

  That first night at the safe house she had left him sleeping and called the director. Not the director of field operations. The frigging director of the CIA himself. She had demanded to be taken home, had insisted that she wanted no further part in this operation.